I had my review appointment with occupational health yesterday. It didn’t go quite as I had anticipated. I was fully expecting to be going back to work on Monday. Instead, I had to talk him down from two months to four weeks for my next review.
I thought I was doing ok, and all told, I had been doing ok the last few weeks, despite the stress of Christmas. But what I’ve started to realise since the rest of the world has gone back to normality is that Christmas made it socially acceptable to sit around in jammies all day, drink too much, hibernate and generally ignore the realities of life. That’s all gone now. The problem is, the urge to continue to do all of the above is still incredibly strong. Everything is taking the most monumental effort.
Among the questions I was asked yesterday…………..what have you been doing with your time? You mean apart from colouring? Not a whole lot. Have you been sociable? Does facebook count? What psychological support do you have? Ummmm…………. What’s been going well? ………………… Have you been running? Doing yoga? etc etc etc
I’m starting to understand why he deemed me not ready to go back to work. The vast majority of my time the last few weeks has been spent at home with Hubby and the kids. Around them, I’m more or less ok, but if I’m not, I have the space to step back, or I can at least try. But with other people? When I’m with other people, it’s almost as if I’m outside myself, disconnected somehow. I’m tripping over my words, and I feel awkward. I know that hiding won’t help, but persuading myself to come out of the cave is taking such a huge effort. I’m also really conscious that people will pick up on this and feel awkward because of it.
I came out of that appointment yesterday feeling equal measures shocked and relieved. I was also incredibly determined/guilt fuelled, although possibly a tad over ambitious about what I would with my time over the next four weeks. In my head, I could see me getting up, getting the kids out to school, then coming back for yoga and a run. Every day. Today I got the kids out to school. I came back and changed a bed, met a couple of friends for tea, put on a wash, unloaded the dishwasher. That’s it, and I’m ready to go back to bed. I’m shattered. I suspect I’ve set the bar a little high.
I feel like I’m in limbo, again.